


Sounds and life

by firecrackerx



Series: Sounds of Life [2]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 12:05:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3067190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firecrackerx/pseuds/firecrackerx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carmilla explores the complexities of a relationship where your girlfriend could also be your dinner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sounds and life

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to Silent-Wordsmith, true scallywag, esq., for his birthday.

Carmilla steps into the dark room, closing the door carefully behind her and blowing warm air in her cupped hands. It was barely four when she walked back to the dorm, but she was already tired of prowling around the campus. There were no parties, no nocturnal study groups for upcoming tests, and half the rooms had been vacated after the events in the Lustig building. The grounds were cold and empty and the more she had wandered under the stars, the more she had missed Laura. The image of the girl curled up in bed, warm and safe, had plagued her until she had headed back to their bedroom, distracting her from her hunger.

As soon as she closes the door and lets the familiar space welcome her, she feels at ease. The scent of old library books, chocolate and warm skin. The sound of Laura's breathing and the beating of her heart, soft, slow in her sleep. Carmilla bends down over her, the tip of her nose brushing Laura's hair over her neck. What she smells almost makes her purr.

The cold in her bones and the warmth coming from Laura's bed turn her melancholy into impatience; she stands on one foot, trying to take one of her boots off without unlacing it first, then the other. She pushes them to the side with a little kick. The floor feels warm under her bare feet, even though she knows it must be cold, and a sigh escapes her. Almost like in response, the earth rumbles.

Silas has been trembling under their feet so frequently in the last days that none of the students still around pay any attention to it anymore, especially considering that most students have developed a way to get used quickly to the most ominous things. It's a short one this time, but Laura moves under the covers, turning around to look at Carmilla over her shoulder, eyes half closed.

"...Carm?" she murmurs, turning to face the wall again. "What time is it?"

"Around four."

"You're back early..."

"I missed your pillow. Share?"

Laura grabs the covers and holds them up, inviting her to come in. Carmilla smiles.

"Come on, get in..." manages Laura around a yawn.

"While I'm still dressed up, sweetheart?"

"I don't care. Get in already, unless you're all yucky..." murmurs Laura, the last word barely audible. Carmilla suspects she has fallen asleep again, so she slips under the covers with her shirt and pants still on, pressing as close as possible against Laura's warm body with a deep, content sigh. Head resting on her chest, Carmilla closes her eyes listening to the firm heartbeat and feeling her own fingers growing cold as minutes fall into the room and dissolve like waterdrops.

For the first time in many years, feeding has become a problem. With the campus half empty, finding prey is increasingly difficult, especially now that seduction is out of the possible approaching strategies. Her body grows cold and heavy too frequently these days, making her feel like she is turning into stone. Laura tries to help by offering her neck, but Carmilla refuses for as long as she dares. Feeding from Laura feels even worse than the twisting ghost of hunger in her stomach. Whenever she tries there is a sharp moment of panic as she drinks. She still hides her face when she is done until she can clean the blood from her lips. Still spends the whole day after it happens looking at Laura when she is distracted, looking at her avidly for signs of rejection or disgust, for regret in her eyes as she covers the punctures in her neck with band-aids.

Whenever she feeds from Laura, driven by desperation, she waits. Waits for the familiar look she's seen countless times when people realize she is a monster. Some realize right away, some after the glamour of seduction wears off, but it always comes. The look. A long, long look right into her eyes, silent, filled with shifting perceptions and fear. Strangers looked, the few friends she had looked, Ell looked.

Carmilla dreads the day when Laura will look at her like that. Her fear is stronger than her hunger. Or it is, at least, until the hunger becomes unbearable.

Because the thing is, as much as she tries to hold back, she needs to feed. And there is only a way to do it efficiently, the way she's done it from the beginning, the way it has always been done: find someone full of strength and devour the life from them. That is why she can't help but hesitate every time Laura brushes her hair away from her neck, arching it to expose it. She doesn't want to devour the life away from Laura. She just wants to listen to her heartbeat, like now. Strong, steady and safe. Carmilla pulls her closer, holding her as tight as she dares.

Laura's heart quickens, almost imperceptibly.

"Are you awake?"

"No," she shifts to fit better against Carmilla.

"Your heart is beating faster," she whispers, letting Laura take her arm and put it around herself more comfortably.

"Because you're here."

"Is that so...?"

Carmilla notices the little change in her heartbeat as she runs a hand over the curve of her hip. She is grateful for Laura's thick pajamas keeping her cold fingers away from her skin; when she reaches the generous fringe of exposed skin at her waist, she can't help but wanting to touch and see how much faster can she make her heartbeat go. Her hands have gone too cold, though, and they won't warm up. Unable to resist, she slides her nails over Laura's skin, softly, and feels the body uncurl and stretch under her hand.

"Yes," comes finally the answer, and Carmilla can hear a little smile in her sleepy voice. "And because you're touching me."

With a whisper of rustled blankets Carmilla moves to lie on top of her. The hunger in the pit of her stomach is eclipsed by the one she feels for Laura. She wonders if she knew this would happen, if she had unconsciously been seeking Laura the whole night. If her lust is not hiding her hunger, but they are parts of the same thing.

I didn't come here to feed, she thinks. I came here for her. For her. She can feel Laura's hips adjusting under her weight, her legs moving to accommodate Carmilla's thigh between them. Their breaths sound loud and ragged in the dark room. Laura's fingers close around her forearms; Carmilla can feel them squeezing softly every time she pushes her thigh forward.

Did I come here to feed? The thought festers in her mind while she moves lazily against Laura. Did I come back so early, did I lose interest in the hunt so fast, because I knew I had someone here I could take easily? Carmilla looks at Laura, her face still full of the softness of sleep, eyes closed, mouth slightly opened. In the darkness, with her hair spilled over the pillow, she looks almost asleep, but Carmilla can hear the strong heartbeat hammering in her chest, the rush of blood inside her, the short intakes of breath. The room is silent, but life thunders inside Laura.

"You really wanna wake me up," she murmurs, hips pushing up to meet her thigh.

"I am not doing anything," whispers Carmilla.

"It definitely _feels_ like something..."

She came back to feed.

She did it without realizing it. She also came back for Laura, because she needed to see her, touch her. But she came back early because she needed her blood, too. Because there was no prey out there to take if from and the animal inside her knew where to find one. She is sadly unsurprised. She is a monster, after all, with all its advantages and consequences. The only thing that matters now is proving, to Laura and herself, that she is able to keep the monster locked inside. She leans slowly and buries her face against Laura's neck.

A very light kiss. Blood palpitates under the skin, against her lips, and her stomach clenches painfully, but Carmilla swallows her hunger. Closing her eyes, she drags her lips over Laura's neck and the hollow of her throat, hot skin boiling with life. She thinks she can hear Laura whimpering softly and it takes her a few moments to realize the sound came from her own mouth. The first four buttons in Laura's shirt are undone; the bed creaks almost quietly.

Carmilla is unable to move her lips from Laura's throat, gripping the blanket hard to keep her lips sealed. She is grateful and relieved when she feels Laura's hands move up her arms, over her shoulders and her neck, fingers digging in her black hair to pull her in for a kiss. As soon as their mouths touch, she knows it has been a mistake. Her lips have gone cold too.

"Carm, are you alright?" Laura holds her face between her hands, pulling her close to look at her in the darkness. "Oh, you look like crap."

"Hmm, just what a girl wants to hear in a moment like this, buttercup."

"You know what I mean. And you feel so cold. Like..." Laura hesitates. Like a corpse, thinks Carmilla while Laura keeps looking at her. She avoids her eyes:

"Don't look at me like that," she asks. Her voice cracks a little at the end. "Please."

"You didn't feed, did you?"

Carmilla lowers her face until her forehead is resting on Laura's chest:

"No."

Laura moves under her. The bed squeaks when she sinks her foot into the mattress, grinding her hips slowly against Carmilla, fingers caressing the back of her neck.

"Do it," she says, holding Carmilla's head close to her.

"Laura..."

"Not now," she whispers, opening her half-unbuttoned shirt. "Don't fight me."

When Carmilla runs her tongue over Laura's skin, her mind goes blank. The heat of it, the promise of blood underneath, the feel of her hard nipple against her tongue. She feels like she used to so many decades ago, when she was always ready to feast. Her teeth sink in the tender skin right above Laura's left breast. There's a gasp. Hands in her hair. Not pushing her away. Pulling her closer. Carmilla forgets everything about monsters, about hunger, about the world. She barely registers the hand unceremoniously shoved down the front of her pants until her body reacts to the touch on its own.

Laura's legs tighten around her thigh and her back arches, finishing almost lazily, in a languid half-wakefulness. Carmilla drinks and thrusts against scorching fingers. Her mind is feverish, but her body seems to match Laura's mood. She only stops feeding when her breath hitches right before her climax. When her body stops convulsing, Laura's hand is still trapped inside her tight pants; after a little maneuvering she is able to take it back and Carmilla can see her fingers glistening. The smell of sex doesn't hit her, though. It's the scent of blood that hangs in the air. Her lips are wet and sticky. The needle of panic stings.

She reaches for the little shelf over the bed with her head low. Her hand ghosts blindly over corners of books, a cellphone, a pen, knocks a little pile of coins. Her fingers move frantically. A napkin. A kleenex. Anything.

"Hey."

Laura's voice is soft. Fingers close around her wrist and take her arm gently back under the blankets. Carmilla keeps her head low, clearing her throat:

"Do you have something...?"

"You can look up," she says. Carmilla hesitates. "It's okay, I promise."

And because she really wants it to be okay, Carmilla looks up. As she looms over Laura with the taste of blood in her tongue, she knows the monster is out. But Laura's heartbeat is steady and her eyes are clear when she smiles.

"I didn't want you to see me like this."

"I know what you are. And I know it’s..." she makes a face, trying to find the right word, "natural for you to do this. I know you need it, and as much as we could discuss the implications of the act itself, well. I'm not grossed out by it. At all."

Carmilla looks at her, trying to grasp the meaning of her words. Her body is heating up slowly, waking up from its slumber of starvation. A red drop falls from her chin and lands against Laura's chest, who wrinkles her nose:

"Okay, that was gross. But you know what I mean."

Carmilla smiles. A shy, monstrous, bloody smile.

 

"Oh... you have... a little something... right there..."

New blood filling her and finally under a roof after many days of pointless hiking and sharp hunger, Carmilla fights a smile while Laura cleans the blood from her mouth with a napkin in the warmly lit diner. She doesn't wait for Laura to look at her in fear anymore, nor does she try to act as anything but the kind of monster she is. There is a badly mauled corpse in the storage room after all, so it may be a little late to pretend she is not one. She doesn’t care.

She is Laura's monster and that is just how Carmilla likes it.


End file.
